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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24438982">And all that's best of dark and bright</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightingkail/pseuds/nightingkail'>nightingkail</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amaranthine (Dragon Age), Communication Failure, Elf/Human Relationship(s), F/F, F/M, Fantastic Racism, Grey Warden Joining, Grey Warden Secrets, Jealousy, King Alistair (Dragon Age), Lack of Communication, Light Angst, Look Surana doesn't know how to communicate because they never taught her that in the Circle, Mage (Dragon Age) Rights, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, No Beta, Past Violence, Post-Dragon Age: Origins Quest - The Battle of Denerim, Vigil's Keep (Dragon Age), will update tags as I go</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:02:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,995</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24438982</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightingkail/pseuds/nightingkail</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone knew the story. Neria Surana slew the archdemon Urthemiel atop Fort Drakon. Alistair, the new King of Ferelden, along with the rest of the nation, declared her the Hero of Ferelden. She thought the world would stay fixed after she pieced it back together. </p><p>She was a fool to think so. She couldn't even save her relationship with Leliana in the years that followed Amaranthine's near destruction.</p><p>Ten years later, Inquisitor Eric Percival Trevelyan has quite the problem on his hands - a problem that looks exactly like an ancient darkspawn magister. </p><p>When Leliana, the Inquisition's Spymaster, comes looking for help, Neria is obligated to answer. </p><p>Despite not having spoken face-to-face for several years, there is a lingering tension between Neria and Leliana, seeing as they never properly broke off their relationship. </p><p>So, when the Hero of Ferelden, Warden-Commander Surana, comes knocking on the Inquisition's door, there's a complication. </p><p>A complication that's named Nathaniel Howe. </p><p>---</p><p>Or, a somewhat non-linear look at the missing 10 years since the Fifth Blight.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Leliana/Female Surana (Dragon Age), Leliana/Female Warden (Dragon Age), Nathaniel Howe/Female Surana, Nathaniel Howe/Female Warden</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. She walks in beauty, like the night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>There was much to do after she slew the archdemon. She also dreaded the day that she would need to leave for Amaranthine.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yeah, so I basically just listened to Passenger Seat by Death Cab for Cutie on repeat while writing this chapter</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>9:31 Dragon 20th day of August - Denerim </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>A piercing scream could be heard throughout the halls of the west wing of the Royal Palace. Neria's eyes shot open, tearing her mind away from the Fade. A thin sheen of sweat coated her forehead and hair. She rapidly eyed her surroundings, looking for an invisible threat. Her breathing was ragged, and she was just shy of hyperventilating. The blood rushed all over her body. She could hear the pounding of her heart in her head like a hammer with the constant <em>ba-dum ba-dum </em>over and over. The world seemed to move in slow motion, or maybe she was just moving too fast. Either way, reality felt distorted. The sound of her breathing and heartbeat drowned out everything else. She hadn't noticed her lover stir awake, trying to calm her down. She didn't even see the pair of guards with the newly coronated king standing in the doorway. </p><p> </p><p>"Make it stop! Andraste, please make it stop!" she cried out, covering her ears. "I can't take it anymore. Just make it stop!" </p><p> </p><p>Her bedmate, a once infamous Orlesian bard, turned Chantry sister - now war hero - looked on her form in pity. The redhead's eyes flickered over to the newly coronated king of Ferelden. He, in turn, looked on in sympathy because he knew precisely what plagued her dreams. </p><p> </p><p>"Shhh, it's okay, love. You're alright. The Blight is over. You are stronger than the demons that tempt you," the redhead murmured in a gentle voice. Though she wanted to hug her lover, she knew that it would be a bad idea. The last time she tried to touch Neria when she woke from one of her nightmares, the mage ended up encasing the entire room in a blanket of snow. </p><p> </p><p>Alistair looked on as Leliana tried her best to comfort Neria. He was well aware of the nightmares, Maker knows he suffered from them too. But, the difference between him and Neria was that hers appeared more...vivid in a sense. The demons and spirits of the Fade were naturally drawn to her since she was a mage. </p><p> </p><p>Whenever Alistair suffered from the Fade's horrors, Anora was there to wake him up and comfort him in her own way. After an hour or so, he was able to shake them off and fall asleep again. He knew that Neria wasn't so lucky. In one of her half-dreaming half-awake states, she could very well wreak havoc on the living world if she wasn't careful. </p><p> </p><p>Though the semantics of magic eluded Alistair, he knew that mages drew their magic from the Fade. Their spells were them manifesting energy in the Fade and then pulling it across the Veil to exert their will on the living world. Neria was most at risk of hurting herself or someone else when she couldn't tell reality from her dreams. If she thought the person beside her was, in fact, not a person, but rather a darkspawn, there would be terrible consequences. </p><p> </p><p>After all, Neria was powerful. Her quick wit and natural ability allowed her to shapeshift into many different animals. She could create a blizzard, or a thunderstorm, or a raging firestorm (sometimes all three at once) to raze the landscape and decimate her enemies. She could put the fear of the Maker in someone. </p><p> </p><p>Alistair shook his head, clearing away his rambling thoughts. Yes, Neria was powerful - more powerful than most mages her age- but he also knew that a lot of her power drew from her pain. After all, she was still a young woman just as he was a young man. She had yet to turn twenty-two years of age. </p><p> </p><p>He dismissed the guards, despite their protests. He trusted Neria. </p><p> </p><p>And so he stayed with them until dawn broke through the opening of the velvety curtains of the guest bedroom. He could never allocate enough time to spend with his friends. Even though Anora could very well take care of matters herself, Alistair needed to take active participation in clean-up efforts. Neria placed him on the throne, and he needed to honor the good faith she had to put him there in the first place. But first, he needed to be there for a friend at her lowest point. </p><p> </p><p>___</p><p> </p><p>It was nearly noon when Neria emerged from her chambers. Leliana had risen hours prior and subsequently stormed out of the palace. The guards posted near their shared room gave the mage a knowing glance. Those bastards knew too much. Be that as it may, the guards shifted their pitying look to one of appreciation as they took in Neria's outfit. </p><p> </p><p>She had chosen traditional mage robes over her Warden raiments. Leliana and Alistair claimed she didn't need to be battle-ready all hours of the day. </p><p> </p><p>(She felt otherwise. She was still on edge. She yet scouted a room before relaxing. She tried her best to withdraw herself from the social gatherings Alistair and Anora hosted. She always kept a spare dagger strapped to her thigh. Leliana gave the object a nasty glare whenever she saw Neria undress for the evening.) </p><p> </p><p>She meandered her way around the palace before making an appearance at the dining hall. There sat Alistair at the head of the table. Apparently, it was Anora's turn to play diplomat and negotiate trade with Orlais.</p><p> </p><p> At the sound of the door closing behind her, many pairs of eyes focused on her. Once they realized that she was not, in fact, an important dignitary, they all resumed their dull chatter. As much of a hero that she was to Ferelden's commoners, the nobility thought differently. They claimed she rode the coattails of what was actually Alistair's success. Few were happy to declare her Ferelden's hero. She was now a national treasure, whether or not they liked her was irrelevant. </p><p> </p><p>She spotted an open seat between Lord Who-Cares and Lady Whoever and did her best to slip into the fray unannounced. A serving girl was quick to pour water into her glass. The girl gave Neria a bright smile, happy to be serving the Hero of Ferelden. </p><p> </p><p>"Yes, well, 'tis quite a shame about Amaranthine. I know there was speculation about who would become the next arl," Lady Whoever said. Obvious disdain dripped off every word. Clearly, she hoped her family would be elevated to a higher status. </p><p> </p><p>"Yes, well, it's certainly unprecedented. However, we need stability now, more than ever. I know firsthand the damage that the darkspawn caused. It will be many years before my people can recover," Lord Who-cares replied. </p><p> </p><p>Both nobles became tight-lipped once they realized who sat between them. "Oh, please. Don't stop on my account." </p><p> </p><p>"Oh my! Here's the soon-to-be arlessa herself. Lady Morwenna Quilal. Charmed to meet you." Said woman appeared to be in her late forties. Crow's feet were at the corners of her piercing, brown eyes, which took in every detail of Neria's appearance. She was calculating her odds. How troublesome would it be for her to petition Alistair to change his mind about Amaranthine's ownership?</p><p> </p><p>Had Alistair not promised it to the Grey Wardens some two months ago, there would've been a power vacuum, nobles from all over Ferelden vying for a better station. Neria put up her facade, knowing now that she'd be subjected to unwanted interrogation for the remainder of their meal. "Yes, I'm sure. I have to say, I was quite shocked when Alistair broke the news to me." </p><p> </p><p>Lady Quilal frowned at the casualness with which Neria used the king's name. "I can only assume that it was. No one was expecting<em> King </em> Alistair to grant the arling to the Wardens. But don't fret. I can assure you that the other arls and banns would be delighted to help you should Amaranthine prove to be...challenging." </p><p> </p><p>"And I'm sure you'd be first in line, Lady Morwenna. Don't mind her, Lady Surana. I'm Lord Gallagher Wulff if there are to be introductions," the man added. He, like Lady Quilal, was an aging person. His greying hair and wrinkled face appeared kind to Neria. She could deduce that he was no threat. He respected Alistair's decision. </p><p> </p><p>"A pleasure, my lord," the mage said carefully. She didn't want to step on any more toes than she already had. </p><p> </p><p>"We're all delighted to have you join us, dear. King Alistair wasn't sure if you'd make an appearance or not. You're <em>quite </em>busy with transferring titles and the clean-up efforts, I presume," Lady Quilal stated cooly. </p><p> </p><p>Nobles were always such terrible gossips. </p><p> </p><p>"Yes, very much so. Weisshaupt sends an unfathomable amount of missives every week. So grim and fatalistic, that lot. I really should travel to the homeland, but I'd rather see to it that Amaranthine can stand on its own before I make travel arrangements." Her words were barbed, and her demeanor cold. If it was a sparring match, Lady Quilal wanted, well, Neria would oblige. "There's so much to do with the city and Vigil's Keep, based on what I've heard. Ferelden may keep me longer than Weisshaupt is happy with." </p><p> </p><p>Lunch passed rather tensely after that. Lady Quilal wasn't so fond of Neria's aloofness. Lord Wulff found it amusing, but he was the only one. The other nobles had very well heard what was not meant for their ears. A chilly atmosphere threatened to suffocate the remaining conversations. Surely, they were not pleased that Neria was more than just bark. She could bite as well. </p><p> </p><p>Ultimately, it was foolish of her. She let her temper get the best of her. The nobles already painted her like some wild elf who cleverly whispered nefarious plan's into Alistair's ear. Usually, she would've bitten her tongue and played along. But after several months of the backhanded compliments, she grew weary of playing nice. </p><p> </p><p>"Well, it was lovely having all of you here as guests. Now, I'm afraid I must get back to business," Alistair said, his voice cutting through the thick tension.  </p><p> </p><p>Despite the thinly veiled protests, Alistair dismissed the lunch crowd. They took their sweet time bidding Alistair (no matter what, she still refused to use his title, he was still her brother) farewell before she was allowed a word with him.</p><p> </p><p>He sighed, and his warm brown eyes flitted back to Neria. "You could've played nice, you know. My advisors are already giving me trouble about granting bloody Amaranthine to the Grey Wardens." </p><p> </p><p>Neria really felt for him, she did. But it was against her very nature to play nice in regards to Ferelden politics. The nobles divided the country and could've been their downfall in the fight against the Blight. The nobles, in their infinite wisdom, hated everything Neria represented. "I understand." </p><p> </p><p>"However, enough of that. I did, in fact, want to discuss some things now that I have your attention." </p><p> </p><p>She raised a brow in curiosity. "Oh? What's on your mind?" </p><p> </p><p>__</p><p> </p><p>If she heard the bloody word 'infrastructure' again, she was going to lose it. While Neria was flattered that Alistair wanted her on his council, even if only for a month or two before she left for Amaranthine, she didn't take to politics as he did. The thunderous look on her face must've been frightening. The castle staff quickly hurried out of her way as she stormed out of Alistair's study. </p><p> </p><p>The meeting with his other advisors had been pleasant enough (save for Anora, but that was to be expected), but she was tired. She was always tired nowadays. Her bones ached, and her heart was heavy, and 'duty' was just another word that threatened to take root in her lungs and suffocate her. </p><p> </p><p>She hated the idea of leaving Denerim. The past three and a half months slipped into uneasy normalcy. Neria would answer missives, mingle with nobles, and train until her muscles screamed for rest. Alistair was busy running a country. Leliana was usually about Denerim helping with relief efforts. She could take a moment to breathe and remember that her life wasn't forfeit every other day. </p><p> </p><p> Though she didn't have the entirety of the family with her (she desperately missed the time on the road), she was content. She supposed that it would be good enough for her. Oghren was most likely off crawling from tavern to tavern, drunk on the feeling of accomplishment. Zevran stayed for as long as he could, but ultimately he left for Antiva a week ago. Morrigan stole away to wherever she currently resided, pregnant with a child whose soul once belonged to an old god. Wynne had gone back to the Circle, Shale, in tow. And Sten had set sail for Par Vollen not long after the victory at Fort Drakon. </p><p> </p><p>A heavy sigh escaped her lips. It didn't do her any good to long for the past. All of her former companions were off on their own journey. She always hoped the Blight wouldn't last for the duration of her lifetime. But now that it was over, something still felt amiss. She couldn't quite place her finger on it. </p><p> </p><p>(She knew what the feeling was. She just didn't want to admit it. She refused to acknowledge that she was now a tool for the Wardens. As much as she loved Alistair, she was now a tool for him as well. She would never be free.) </p><p> </p><p>Once she reached her room, she hesitated. She didn't know if Leliana was inside, expecting a chat. They still needed to talk about the incident from earlier. As well as the fact that Neria knew for a solid month what Alistair intended to do about Amaranthine. And the plans to--</p><p> </p><p>A playful bark pulled her from her wandering thoughts. Of course. How on the nose for her trusted war-hound, Sparky, to come to her when she needed him most. "Who's a good boy? That's right! It's you. You're the best boy." </p><p> </p><p>"Always the doting mother with him," an accented voice mused. </p><p> </p><p>Leliana. </p><p> </p><p>Neria whipped around to face her lover. A gnarly, nasty feeling of anxiety crawled over her skin. They hadn't talked since morning. Well, to say they spoke was a bit of a stretch. It was mainly Leliana relentlessly mothering Neria and telling her off for her decision to leave in a couple of months. </p><p> </p><p>"How was your day?" </p><p> </p><p>The redhead smiled gently. The twisting, tight knot in her stomach loosened a bit. It seemed as if Neria's anxiety was...unwarranted. "Hmm, well enough, I suppose. There are many here in Denerim that benefit from the Chantry's help." </p><p> </p><p>"True enough. Even though the Blight's over, there's still the rebuilding efforts Alistair and Anora are working on." </p><p> </p><p>Leliana slipped past Neria to open the door. "Come on, it's been a long day. And I don't think you want to have this conversation while there are prying eyes." </p><p> </p><p>Neria glanced over to the guards at the end of the hallway that Leliana was referring to. Of course. Though she was fond of most of the guards Alistair had assigned her, they had a nasty habit of eavesdropping. It seemed as if everyone in the palace had a hard time minding their own business. </p><p> </p><p>"Very well then, let's chat," she said, following her lover into their shared guest room. </p><p> </p><p>Alistair had been kind enough to allow them to take up room at the palace. For once, Anora agreed with his decision. The queen claimed that it would be good publicity for the monarchy to show a friendly relation with the Hero of Ferelden. Neria had a suspicion that Alistair just wanted her and Leliana around because he was afraid that he'd been left alone to the sharks. </p><p> </p><p>The room itself showed how highly he thought of the couple. A large, four-poster bed sat opposite the wall with large, glass doors framed by red velvety curtains. The balcony the doors led to looked over Denerim's palace district.</p><p> </p><p>Leliana sat down on the massive, oak desk while Neria sat on the bed with Sparky's head resting in her lap. </p><p> </p><p>"I want to apologize for my outburst earlier. It was...untoward. You are not the reason for my frustration. I just happened to take it out on you when I shouldn't have." </p><p> </p><p>Neria chewed on her bottom lip as her lover apologized. A bad habit she hadn't grown out of. "I suspected as much. So, what is it you're actually upset about?" </p><p> </p><p>"I know that you must go to Amaranthine, I know that you are very devoted to your duty, much like I am. I guess... I'm just selfish... I don't want to part ways yet. I want to have you all to myself for as long as I can before others call for your aid."</p><p> </p><p>"You know that I don't want to leave. There's only so much I can do to put off Weisshaupt's dogs." </p><p> </p><p>"And I know that. I do. I never wanted to take out my frustration for the order on you. I would be less...hm, how to say...anxious if you let me accompany you. Surely you'll need extra hands once you arrive at Vigil's Keep?" </p><p> </p><p>Leliana looked at her love, expectantly. She had that glimmer in her eye that suggested she still held on to a far happier future than Neria envisioned. "We've already talked about this. Countless times, in fact. I know you are free to do as you wish, but you are <em>not </em>coming with me to Amaranthine. Who knows how long I'll need to stay there. Maker's breath, I don't even know if I'm going to be stationed there permanently once I get the whole mess figured out." </p><p> </p><p>"But-" </p><p> </p><p>"No. This is final. Look, I can't stop you if you're stubborn enough to tag along, but I can promise that I won't be happy if you do." </p><p> </p><p>Sparky perked up at Neria's pleading voice. He whined when he saw his master was troubled. Looking around the room for the threat, the dog's eyes landed on Leliana. </p><p> </p><p>Mabari war-hounds were smart creatures. They bonded to one master for the duration of their lives and had the intelligence of a small child. As such, Sparky deduced that Leliana was the one who made his master upset. He locked eyes with the redhead and flashed his teeth at her. A warning. </p><p> </p><p>"I am merely offering an option that would benefit both of us. So if you could kindly call off your hound-" </p><p> </p><p>"He did nothing wrong -" </p><p> </p><p>"Neria! He looks ready to leap on me! What else -" </p><p> </p><p>"Andraste's tits, fine! Cut it out, Sparky." </p><p> </p><p>The dog backed down, thanks to his master's orders. He put his head back in Neria's lap, but his eyes never left Leliana. </p><p> </p><p>"Look, I can tell that I'm upsetting you. I already told you why I'm upset, I think it's time you do the same." </p><p> </p><p>A grimace etched its way onto Neria's face, making her seem older than she actually was. "It isn't a problem. I'm fine." </p><p> </p><p>"Clearly, you're not. You woke up screaming again. You need to talk about it, or it's going to eat you alive." </p><p> </p><p>"I said I'm fine." </p><p> </p><p>No, she wasn't. Her blood boiled every single minute of the day. It felt as if a thorny rose bush of all the emotions she held pent up had made its home in her chest. Any time she tried to remove a bud, it stung. She could just imagine the sticky blood spilling from her lips. </p><p> </p><p>Eventually, she'd suffocate. </p><p> </p><p>"Trust me." </p><p> </p><p>Leliana eyed her warily. "Okay." </p><p> </p><p>Neria could tell that Leliana wanted to press the issue more, but didn't, lest she incited another yelling match. More and more evenings ended that way. </p><p> </p><p>"I think...that I need to go get some air. I've been cooped up in the palace all day at Alistair's insistence." </p><p> </p><p>Neria hopped off the bed, and Sparky followed suit. Always the loyal companion right on her heel. </p><p> </p><p>"It's nearly dinner, though. I'm sure Alistair and Anora would be happy to see you seated with the other guests," Leliana protested. </p><p> </p><p>A long pause further charged the lingering tension in the air. "Please give my apologies to Alistair and Anora. I'll be back later." </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>"She walks in beauty, like the night<br/>Of cloudless climes and starry skies;<br/>And all that’s best of dark and bright<br/>Meet in her aspect and her eyes;<br/>Thus mellowed to that tender light<br/>Which heaven to gaudy day denies." </p><p>Lord Byron</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. And sorry I could not travel both</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Vigil's Keep was not was she expected. There were new and old faces. </p><p>But none were the one she wanted most. Even so, she could have a new family.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Think Transatlantacism by Death Cab for Cutie</p><p>Basically the only band I've consistently listened to while working on this project</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>9:31 Dragon 17th day of Harvestmere </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>"Warden-Commander, you can't seriously tell me that your plan is to conscript him. He's the son of Rendon Howe." </p><p> </p><p>Neria Surana was at her wit's end. Her first day at Vigil's Keep proved to be more eventful than initially planned. With the onslaught of the darkspawn and the joining process, she felt the need to lie down for half a day. Yet, here she was, conscripting the son of a former enemy, Nathaniel Howe. </p><p> </p><p>"Yes. I've made my choice, Seneschal," she sighed. As much as she loathed the idea of Nathaniel Howe serving at her side, Neria was a pragmatist at heart. She recognized that there needed to be more Grey Wardens in Ferelden. And, as Ferelden's Warden-Commander, it was her duty to bolster their ranks. </p><p> </p><p>"Very well, an interesting decision, certainly," Seneschal Varel replied. A crease in his forehead indicated that he didn't agree with Neria's choice but ultimately had no other option than to obey her. </p><p> </p><p>"Maker's breath, I can't tell if this is a curse or a vote of confidence," Nathaniel muttered. </p><p> </p><p>"Don't count yourself lucky, yet. You still need to pass the joining," Neria chided. </p><p> </p><p>The guards grimaced but released Nathaniel Howe from his cell and freed him from his shackles. One thing Neria noticed was that even though the Howe name no longer carried the same connotation as before the Blight, Nathaniel still held his head high and walked with a confident gait. He would always be of noble birth. Whether or not he was honorable, well, that remained to be seen. </p><p> </p><p>Neria led Nathaniel back to the keep proper. Along the way, the other guards milling about shared hushed whispers and did little to hide their wandering eyes. Neria scoffed. Though the Blight was over, there was still much to be done. Straggling darkspawn needed to be cleared, recruitment needed to be done, and countless other tasks Alistair entrusted her with. </p><p> </p><p>Once at the doors of the throne room, she paused. "Wait here. Seneschal Varel and I must prepare for the joining. I'm going to leave you with Anders and Oghren in the meantime. I can trust that you'll behave, right?" </p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel rolled his eyes. "It appears I don't have much choice, do I?"</p><p> </p><p>Neria raised a brow in curiosity. Surely, Nathaniel could escape if he really wanted to. From the quick glance, she stole earlier, she could tell that Nathaniel was light on his feet. <strike>His slim archer's build indicated as much. </strike></p><p> </p><p>"We always have a choice. I think it's both in our best interest that you become a Grey Warden. However, if you are decidedly against this, I will release you, and we will never see each other again." </p><p> </p><p>"I wouldn't have thought the Hero of Ferelden so...tame. Where's that whole 'I'll put the fear of the Maker into you' shtick. Based on rumors, I thought you were ten feet tall and shot lightning out of your eyes." </p><p> </p><p>Neria bristled at his use of her title. She was no hero. She never wanted to be. A little more than a year ago, she was just a newly Harrowed mage. She had just turned twenty-two less than a month ago. It always struck her odd how the rumors painted her as more than she was. </p><p> </p><p>"I will only ask once more: will you undergo the joining? If you truly don't want to, do not make me waste precious resources," Neria spat out. </p><p> </p><p>The archer smirked. Clearly, he had an agenda to make Neria's day ten times worse than it already was. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, since you asked so kindly. Please, go prepare this oh-so-secret joining process. I will wait here with your thugs like a good prisoner." </p><p> </p><p>Neria's eyes flashed with an intensity that could only hint at the emotions churning and boiling beneath her skin. She didn't deign to answer his rebuttal. Instead, she turned on her heel, practically dragged Seneschal Varel by the straps of his armor, and slammed the massive doors behind her. </p><p> </p><p>____</p><p> </p><p>"So...you're a Howe?" </p><p> </p><p>"What of it, Anders?" </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, I have nothing against the Howes. Quite fond of them, really. I'm also fond of the Whos, Whys, and Whats." </p><p> </p><p>"Sweet Maker, why did I let Morrigan talk me into that ritual of hers? I should've let the archdemon kill me so I wouldn't have to suffer this torture." </p><p> </p><p>Much like Neria hoped, Nathaniel survived the initial joining process. He passed out for several hours, just like Anders and Oghren, but was right as rain by dinner time last night. </p><p> </p><p>He wasn't entirely well received by the two other Wardens but seemed content enough with his solitude. He quietly ate and observed for the duration of dinner. Before he skulked back to his chambers, Neria asked him to accompany her to Amaranthine. Much to her surprise, he agreed. </p><p> </p><p>"What was that, Warden-Commander?" Anders asked, momentarily pulling Neria's thoughts away. A smarmy smile plastered on his stupid face to further torment her so. "Are you not enjoying our company?" </p><p> </p><p>And while she was grateful for the extra set of capable hands, she quickly realized earlier on in the day that Nathaniel and Anders were like two Circle mages arguing over who was right - that is to say, utterly insufferable. Anders thought it absolutely hilarious to poke and prod Nathaniel about his brooding demeanor. Nathaniel, in turn, only answered in half-assed quips that fell flat most of the time. Neither one could just be quiet for fifteen minutes. </p><p> </p><p>Neria let out a forlorn sigh. "I hadn't thought I'd be stuck on nursemaid duty today. Apparently, I was wrong." </p><p> </p><p>Anders feigned a hurt look, only to have a mischievous glint light up his eyes. "Are you saying that you'd rather have Sparky in my place instead?" </p><p> </p><p>"Yes." </p><p> </p><p>"Warden-Commander, you are a mean woman." </p><p> </p><p>"Anders, you haven't changed a bit since the last time I saw you. And don't take that as a compliment. If I remember correctly, the last time I had a decent conversation with you was when I was fourteen, and you were twenty-one ." </p><p> </p><p>"Glad to know that Anders has always been so childish in nature," Nathaniel interrupted, a bored look on his face. </p><p> </p><p>"Agh, can you three princesses be quiet. It's still a couple of hours to the city," Oghren added, glaring at the others. "I haven't had a decent drink in forever, and I still have to deal with all of you." </p><p> </p><p>Neria brought up her hands to her face to let out a muffled groan. Her companions looked at her in equal parts amusement and horror. </p><p> </p><p>After her momentary lack of composure, she relaxed and continued to lead the group on the Pilgrim's Path. Thankfully, the other men finally got the hint that the mage wasn't in the mood for chatter, and blessed silence washed over them. The birds chirped, and the trees rustled, and Neria felt like she could finally breathe again. </p><p> </p><p>While she was grateful that she had three new Grey Wardens, she had yet to acclimate to traveling with differing personalities.</p><p> </p><p> Oghren was a former companion, but he was also someone she didn't spend a lot of time with. What she knew about him could fill a thimble. Or a mug. </p><p> </p><p>She had known Anders in her youth before First Enchanter Irving forbade his prized apprentice from associating with such a rebellious mage. Neria admired his tenacity and strong will, but realized that he would eventually be executed, or worse, made Tranquil. Apparently, he still held onto his youthful humor as a defense mechanism. You can't lose someone if they were never close, to begin with. </p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel, on the other hand, was a complete stranger. Neria assumed that because he hadn't wholly renounced his noble upbringing, he would be an arrogant son of a bitch. However, the more she spent time with him, the more she thought of him as an enigma. While he had a proud air about him, he hadn't tried to directly question Neria's authority. But neither did he passively comply. </p><p> </p><p>Their last stop within the past two hours, a farmstead overrun by darkspawn, yielded several supply caches. As such, Neria instructed Nathaniel to work his magic thievery skills and pick the locks. The archer simply rolled his eyes and answered with a snarky, 'Does this please you?' </p><p> </p><p>As it stood, Nathaniel Howe was not what she expected. He was proud but not arrogant; he wasn't insubordinate but wasn't passive. He could share banter with Anders for hours (as Neria had learned first hand), but his words were empty - they could mean anything or nothing. </p><p> </p><p>Ever the scholar, she wanted to unravel him and piece him back together. </p><p> </p><p>___</p><p> </p><p>"Warden-Commander, welcome back to the Vigil. I hope your endeavors in Amaranthine City proved successful," Seneschal Varel said upon Neria's arrival at the throne room. </p><p> </p><p>Neria chuckled. While traveling with Anders, Nathaniel and Oghren proved interesting, they didn't actually accomplish much. They had spoken to Constable Aidan of the city guard, but other than establishing that Amaranthine had a smuggling problem, they hadn't done much else. People were reluctant to talk to the group of Grey Wardens, seeing as how the new arlessa murdered the old arl no less than a year ago. </p><p> </p><p>"I wouldn't go so far as to say that we were successful. There's a lot we need to do in showing the people of Amaranthine that we - well, I - have their best interests at heart," the mage replied. </p><p> </p><p>"Yes, I can understand why, seeing as how this territory isn't rightfully yours," Nathaniel muttered. </p><p> </p><p>Anders elbowed him in the stomach, causing the rogue to yelp at the sharp pain. Oghren not-so-cleverly disguised his laugh as a cough, only further drawing Varel's attention to the three junior Grey Wardens. </p><p> </p><p>"Please, don't mind them, Seneschal. They've been acting like children <em> all day </em>," Neria said, the tips of her ears burning hotly with shame. If Varel saw that she couldn't keep her own subordinates in line, what hope did he have for her keeping an entire arling in line? </p><p> </p><p>"May I remind you, you are practically a child yourself," Varel answered, an amused look on his face. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey! I've just turned twenty-two if you must know." </p><p> </p><p>"Precisely my point." </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, how wonderful. A child in charge of my father's arling," Nathaniel interrupted, once again. This time, it was Oghren who happened to 'accidentally' have a muscle spasm and elbow him in the ribs. Nathaniel grunted, only slightly surprised at the reaction. </p><p> </p><p>"If you three can't keep your thoughts and hands to yourself, then go prepare dinner," Neria snapped, her amber eyes narrowed in frustration. </p><p> </p><p> Her travel companions quickly caught on that the Warden-Commander's patience was wearing thin. The three ruffians quickly exchanged wary glances as Varel's amusement became even more apparent. </p><p> </p><p>"Speaking of dinner, Captain Garevel is nearly done. We should head over to the dining hall, and the two of us can continue this conversation over a hot meal, yes?" </p><p> </p><p>The four Grey Wardens perked up at that, seemingly able to disregard the last thirty seconds. </p><p> </p><p>"Dinner's ready?" all four echoed. </p><p> </p><p>Varel chuckled. Of all the rumors about Grey Wardens, at least their legendary appetite wasn't exaggerated. </p><p> </p><p>"Yes, nearly ready. Follow me if you will." </p><p> </p><p>The four Wardens were happy to oblige, their hunger overruling their desire to squabble. </p><p> </p><p>Varel led them to the dining hall, which seemed lonely in the absence of more occupants. Only a handful of survivors were rescued from the darkspawn onslaught the day before. </p><p> </p><p>The remaining guards nodded in Neria's direction as she sat at the table opposite them, her back facing theirs. Nathaniel chose to sit in solitude once again at another table over, while Oghren and Anders joined the conversation with Garevel's men. </p><p> </p><p>She let out a deep sigh of relief because she no longer had an audience hovering behind her. If there was one thing she missed about the Circle, it was that she was mainly able to keep to herself when she wanted to - contrary to popular belief. No one ever bothered her when she had her head shoved in a book. </p><p> </p><p>Here, at Vigil's Keep, she hardly had a waking moment of peace. It was either 'Neria you need to fix this' or 'Neria I need your advice' or some variation of that. She just wanted to curl up with Sparky and not have to deal with politics or nobles for the rest of her life. </p><p> </p><p>Neria's eyes widened in realization. "Seneschal... where's Sparky?" </p><p> </p><p>Catching onto the mage's concern, Varel held up a placating hand. "No need to worry. Your hound is perfectly fine. He's in the kitchen - been there since mid-afternoon, actually - with Garevel, begging for scraps." </p><p> </p><p>She visibly relaxed. "Oh, I see." It was somewhat foolish on her part, but she couldn't help it. Sparky had been there for her since the start - since the fall of Ostagar. He was family, in a sense, much like how Leliana and the Circle were her families. </p><p> </p><p>"You worry too much, Warden-Commander. You are still a young woman, even if Howe thinks of you as a child. You don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. This isn't the Blight."</p><p> </p><p>"I will always worry. Before I became a so-called hero, I worried about how we would stop the Blight. Before I was a Grey Warden, I worried about passing my Harrowing. When I was a child, I worried about being put to the brand," the mage refuted. All her life, she felt the need to look over her shoulder. </p><p> </p><p> If there was one blessing, it was that she was chosen to bear the burden. Few had the iron will she had. Few had nothing to lose. </p><p> </p><p>"This wasn't supposed to be a lecture, Warden-Commander. I am merely offering advice." </p><p> </p><p>Neria huffed and looked away, her temper getting the better of her. "I know-"</p><p> </p><p>"Dinner's ready!" a gruff voice called out.</p><p> </p><p>Neria nearly jumped out of her seat. Exactly what she needed. A distraction. </p><p> </p><p>She bolted to the kitchen to be first in line for dinner. She didn't really care about whatever it was that Garevel decided to serve up. Honestly, anything would be better than Alistair's surprise 'Ferelden stew,' bless his heart. While the travels on the road-hardened her will and sharpened her mind, she could never prepare for the monstrosity that was Alistair's cooking. Even the Circle's food managed to taste better than what he managed to concoct. </p><p> </p><p>"Ah, there you are, Warden-Commander. I'm afraid it's not like the food they served in Denerim, but it'll keep you full," the Captain of the Guard laughed.</p><p> </p><p>Neria smiled. While Garevel was uptight in his own ways, he made sense. His task was a simple one. He was responsible for the safety of the Vigil as well as the vassals within the arling. Neria admired how he was straightforward with his task. Not nearly as much preening and grandstanding as the nobles partook in. </p><p> </p><p>"Trust me, I'd much rather be here than in Denerim. Some of the guests and I didn't quite see eye-to-eye," she answered while helping herself to a plate of lamb meat, vegetables, and bread. </p><p> </p><p>Not wanting to hold up the growing line behind her, she swiped a mug of water and headed back to the table. </p><p> </p><p>"Take your mabari with you! He's been a menace all day, begging for scraps," Garevel shouted after her. </p><p> </p><p>The mage let out a boisterous laugh at the guard captain's insistence. Sure enough, Sparky trailed after his master, tail wagging excited at the prospect of food. </p><p> </p><p>Dinner was peaceful enough after. Varel, thankfully, was sharp enough to pick up on the fact that he would have to broach the subject another time. He kept the conversation light, asking about Sparky and the next day's schedule. </p><p> </p><p>When there was a lull in their conversation, Neria's ears twitched backward slightly to catch a snippet of the conversation between Anders, Oghren, and the guards. She heard the words' Wicked Grace' and knew that they were up to no good. </p><p> </p><p>"We are absolutely <em> not  </em>playing Wicked Grace. That Maker-damned game has been the cause of too many fights." </p><p> </p><p>"Come on, Warden-Commander. What's a better way to officially welcome you to the Vigil?" a guard asked. He looked so young - younger than Neria herself - his brown eyes still full of hope. Hope that had survived even though the darkspawn had killed his friends. </p><p> </p><p>Neria didn't know his name. Truthfully, she hadn't so much as a thought of introducing herself to the guards. She didn't think she needed to. No, that wasn't right. She didn't want to. Learning names meant getting to know each other. Getting to know each other would lead to caring. She didn't fancy the sentimentality. </p><p> </p><p>It was ultimately selfish. Why should Neria be afforded that luxury? The guards here had people they loved and cared about too. And they were the lucky ones. Most of the Vigil's guard was caught in the darkspawn ambush and had given their life to hold the keep until Neria arrived from Denerim. </p><p> </p><p>And so, for the first time, she really <em> looked  </em> at her subordinates. She saw Anders' uncertainty. She saw how Oghren was running away from something. She saw how Nathaniel was running  <em> towards  </em>something. They all looked up to her, the wondrous Hero of Ferelden. </p><p> </p><p>But, this was the chance for Neria to let in more people. Varel was right, she didn't have the weight of the world on her shoulders. While no two families were the same, she had the makings of one here at Vigil's Keep. It was all up to her if she would make her home here. </p><p> </p><p>"Who am I to deny the people? Very well, then, who's dealing first?" </p><p> </p><p>____</p><p> </p><p>"Remind me, never let the mages team up ever again," Oghren grumbled, sore that he had the lowest hand the past three games. </p><p> </p><p>Anders chuckled and winked at his fellow Grey Warden. "My friend, I don't know what you're talking about." </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, you're the one who tried to get <em> everyone  </em>to gang up on me," Neria added, a lopsided grin plastered on her face. </p><p> </p><p>The others at the table, drunk as can be, whooped and hollered. The only sober player was Nathaniel, who proved to be better at the game than most were expecting. He had five wins under his belt with Anders and Varel trailing not far behind, four wins apiece. </p><p> </p><p>At first, Neria reluctantly played, only intending to stick around for a game or two and make casual conversation before creeping up to her room. However, she thoroughly enjoyed the company. Fifteen people total remained of the original guards, and of that lot, seven stuck around for the evening's festivities. </p><p> </p><p>Though she couldn't remember everyone's name (that was more so due to alcohol than general forgetfulness), a few stuck out in her mind. </p><p> </p><p>The young man who suggested the game, Tobias, had a certain charisma about him. His youthful face perfectly disguised his wily ways. Winning the first round, he became an example to the rest of the crowd that no one was to be trusted. "It would hardly be fair if you got to win at Wicked Grace too. Not like you already have a fancy title or two." </p><p> </p><p>Neria held up a hand in a placating manner. True enough, she knew her way around a deck of cards, but she wasn't <em> great  </em>at the game. Her overly cautious nature often betrayed her. "Ouch! You wound me, good ser." </p><p> </p><p>"Yeaahh...how come you know so much about cards, Warden-Commander?" Guardsman Rosalind asked, not even looking up as she drew from the deck, eyes narrowing as she registered the type of card. Which, in turn, signaled to everyone else that her run of bad luck continued. "I wouldn't have thought that they'd let you mages play in the Circle." </p><p> </p><p>Rosalind, though she preferred Rosa, was decidedly the worst at Wicked Grace out of the bunch. Though she was in her mid-forties, she couldn't tell a lie even if her life depended on it. Old habits die hard for an ex-Chantry mother, Neria presumed. </p><p> </p><p>The mage sighed. Begrudgingly, Neria explained the story for the third time that night. Again. "For starters, there wasn't much to do in the blighted tower. The stupid templars almost always had their eyes on us. I was able to get my hands on a deck because I caught some newly initiated members who were foolish enough to smuggle one in. Baby mage-killers aren't so good at smuggling." </p><p> </p><p>Again her turn, Neria paused her story to draw from the deck. The ones who remembered her story groaned in annoyance while the others looked at her expectantly. </p><p> </p><p>"Anyway, I caught them playing a game in <em> my  </em>corner of the library when they were supposed to be keeping watch. They weren't too keen on my blackmailing, but once I told them I was Irving's apprentice, they were happy to surrender them to me. From then on, I kept it hidden in my robes, so at night the other girls and I could play a game or two. Made some nights more bearable than others." </p><p> </p><p>A smile crept on her face. Neria wasn't used to sharing such information so quickly, especially with new people. But it felt nice. </p><p> </p><p>These were people she could understand. At the end of the day, they all wanted the same thing: a hot meal, a soft bed, and someone to share a bed. Simple desires compared to the machinations in Denerim. </p><p> </p><p>"-your turn." </p><p> </p><p>Neria returned from her wandering thoughts at Nathaniel's insistence that it was once again her turn. She glanced at her hand - not lousy, with knights and serpents - and drew from the deck.</p><p> </p><p>The angel of death. </p><p> </p><p>She knew that it would be strategic to wait until she had a better hand, but the yawn that escaped her mouth signaled the game's end. "Alright, let's see who won this game so we can all get some rest." </p><p> </p><p>Tobias and the other young guard members complained, whereas Rosalind and Varel smiled in gratitude. Everybody showed their hands, and Neria swore that the entire keep could hear the ensuing objections.</p><p> </p><p>Much to everyone's chagrin, Nathaniel claimed his final victory of the night, blowing everyone out of the water. Though he wasn't smiling, Neria could tell there was a smug air about him. He seemed more relaxed than before.</p><p> </p><p>Hopefully, that meant he was willing to give the Wardens <strike>Neria</strike> and Amaranthine a chance. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,<br/>And sorry I could not travel both<br/>And be one traveler, long I stood<br/>And looked down one as far as I could<br/>To where it bent in the undergrowth;" </p><p>Robert Frost</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A new development. Some ghosts are hard to forget.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you're checking out this story for the first time, welcome! As of right now, I have no plan to update regularly, seeing as how my university work is keeping me busy as of right now. This is more of a vent fic. One that I use to help process my own emotions. If you happen to find some enjoyment from it, all the better.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>9:38 Dragon 6th day of Bloomingtide - Un-mapped location outside Montsimmard </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neria Surana read and reread the piece of parchment in her hand. Her eyes watered, and her bottom lip trembled, but she refused to cry. The words written seemed to mock her; they plagued her thoughts and threatened to push her over the edge of composure. No, she refused to cry. Though she could imagine the feminine voice of the hand that wrote the letter, heartache accompanied her. She grasped the parchment in a white-knuckle grip, threatening to rip it should she lose her last shred of self-control. She ripped up the last letter she received without any semblance of hesitation. That was when she was sober. Tonight, she wasn’t. But for whatever reason, she didn’t want to destroy one of the last remnants of a past life - one without duty or sacrifice or the feeling of loneliness clawing at her insides. She neatly folded up the letter and placed it with the rest of her belongings. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The liquid burned her throat and made her eyes sting, but she continued to consume the vile drink. Aqua Magus. Alcohol infused with lyrium was a mistake waiting to happen, but at that moment, she showed no consideration for the consequences of bad decisions. All she cared about was the fact that she felt alive; more than she had in ages; that the energy flowing about made her feel giddy. The warm fire’s sensation washed over her, and the alcohol lulled her into a dazed state. Ears ringing, she thought she imagined the sound of a twig snapping. As she hesitantly lowered the bottle, a slow smile crept upon her face. Her ears twitched and moved ever so slightly to trace the sound of carefully placed footsteps. There was only one person it could be. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She let out a laugh that sounded more like a grunt. “Care to join me, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nathaniel</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stopped dead in his tracks. The way she drew out his name made him shiver. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, thank you, Neria.” He continued to make his way to the fireside and plopped down next to her on his bedroll.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neria kept her gaze on the fire, bottle in hand as her companion settled next to her. She exhaled a puff of air before she moved the bottle back up to her lips. She felt a calloused hand overlap hers, and she knew it was his way of saying ‘I think you’ve had enough.’ They had traveled together for what felt like forever, and in time Neria gradually picked up on his gestures. And so she relinquished the bottle to him (it wasn’t like it was the only bottle she brought with her), a grim expression plastered on her face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gave her a gentle smile in return and poured the drink on the ground. “I know how bad the nightmares are. If you want, we could talk about them.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neria scowled, and her ears twitched backward in annoyance. “No. It isn't nightmares.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then what is it?” he asked. “You can tell me anything.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A soft sigh was her reply, and it was all Nathaniel needed. He just wanted to make sure that his Warden-Commander was fine. And if she did not feel like talking, then Nathaniel would not press the issue. No matter how much he wanted to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He reached out a hand to rest on her arm, but she flinched and swatted it away. “You don’t want to hear about this, Nate. Why don’t you just leave me alone? Make yourself useful and gather some more firewood, I suppose.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hurt by her words, Nathaniel grit his teeth and grasped her chin to look into her eyes. “You are my superior, yes, but above that, my friend. I care about you and-” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I get it. Stop saying those things before I decide to turn you into a frog after all…” Neria grumbled as she wriggled free from his grasp. His intense gaze bored through her soul. “Besides, it’s nothing important. I was just thinking about a personal issue.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m willing to listen, you know.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s nothing you’d want to hear,” she replied</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Try me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neria scowled. She always gave into Nathaniel. “Fine.” She sighed, crossing her arms. “This would’ve been my anniversary with Leliana. Keyword: would. We’re...not necessarily broken up, but we’re not together either. I don’t know what it is that we’ve been doing for two years. I still have a soft spot for her. She sends letters every once in a while. Just to check up on me. She’s been busy being the Left Hand of the Divine. Though Maker only knows how she manages to find me. I still reply, but I never send the letters. She just keeps sending them, maybe hoping that one day I’ll finally write back to her. I won’t.  She’s better off without me in her life.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The crackling of the fire was the only noise in the pregnant silence that followed. Neria, too cowardly to look at Nathaniel, only reached for the second bottle of alcohol stashed in her bag. Nathaniel’s hand stopped her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why do you think that she’s better off without you?” Nathaniel asked. She continued to reach for the bottle. He grabbed her wrist, gentle, yet commanding. Neria could feel the heat of his skin through her doublet. It felt hot enough to burn. She immediately pulled back once she realized she hungered for more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neria’s eyes glinted in the dim light of the fire. Skeptical. “Why do you think, Nate? I’m just a stupid fuck-up who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I never asked to be this grand hero. And a woman like her? She’s destined to become something great. She is something great. She can make a change in this world. But for me? My life is cursed. If we don’t find the cure to the Calling, I’ll be lured into the Deep Roads for my death. That thought will hover over me for the rest of my life. In the end, it would be selfish of me to love her.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nathaniel looked at her, his lips in a thin line. “Neria, you are so much more than what you say you are. I see a brave, kind, strong woman. No one can make you less than you are...only you can do that. As for Leliana, her loss is another’s gain. However, I have a hard time believing that she willingly parted ways. Still, don’t doubt that you are worthy of love. You deserve to be worshipped.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her companion’s words brought a furious blush to her face. Indeed, it had been some time since someone propositioned her for any sexual act. It’s not as if she hadn’t thought about blowing off steam before. When she and Nathaniel arrived at an outpost in the Anderfels, some several men and women would’ve been happy to share an evening with the Hero of the Fifth Blight. There was also that one Qunari Tal-Vashoth they encountered eight months back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you saying, Nate? Do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>want to worship me?” She asked, an accusatory edge to her voice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nathaniel glanced away, too proud to look her in the eye. “Perhaps.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A sly smile crept upon her face. Her eyes, a bright amber, darkened with desire. “Then what’s stopping us?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She slid over and sat in Nathaniel’s lap. He gladly accepted her into his personal space. His hands were quick to latch onto her hips. He gripped her tightly, but not enough to bruise. As if he wanted to cement her in his mind, but was still uncertain if he was dreaming or not. Although she would’ve preferred to court Nathaniel like a proper lover, she would be naive to expect any genuine feelings from him. For all she knew, Nathaniel only found her body attractive. Just because he desired sex with her didn’t mean that he harbored more intense emotions. Still, a small part of her clung onto the hope that he did. Even so, being occasional bed-mates with Nathaniel wasn’t the worst thing ever.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(<strike>That was a lie.</strike>) </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their lips met in a tentative kiss. He moved his hands to cradle her face as she slid her arms over his shoulders and around his neck. It was more innocent than Neria was expecting. She was prepared for sloppy, rushed kisses and teeth and the draw of blood. Not this. Never this. This - Nathaniel, kissing her wholeheartedly, with everything he had - was more than just desire. It was devotion. Perhaps she was wrong to doubt him. Maybe he did want to worship her. Perhaps she was inclined to worship him in return. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two pulled away for air. Blue eyes met amber ones, and Neria realized she couldn’t remember the last time she had been so afraid. Being companions who fucked now and then would be messy. She didn’t want to lose Nathaniel as a friend. She wouldn’t be able to carry on as usual. She had lost so many people in her life, either to circumstance or her actions. She would be hard-pressed to lose Nathaniel as well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong? Is this not what you want?” Nathaniel asked. He caressed her cheek with his thumb. When Neria gave no immediate answer, he began to pull away. “I see...well, we can pretend-” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She leaned forward to plant a kiss on the corner of his lips. More than friendly, but not exactly a promise. If they were going to...do whatever it was, they should at least talk about it beforehand, so they didn’t ruin their friendship. “No, I don’t want to pretend this never happened.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then, what is it?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not that I don’t want this. I do. I think I have for a while now. I just...it’s just that...I don’t want to ruin our friendship with a bad decision because we were both lonely. But at the same time, I’m scared about what it could mean...if it could mean more…” Neria admitted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A wry smirk made its way onto Nathaniel’s face. The slight wrinkles around his eye became even more prominent as that smirk turned into a genuine smile. He was happy, she noted. “Bold of you to assume that I would want more.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neria let out a gentle laugh. It was just like him, to remedy the situation with a well-meaning quip. “Oh? Did I miss something then? If I heard correctly, you said that you wanted to worship me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He softened the look on his face as he took in her admission. “My dear Warden-Commander, you’ve been blind all these years. I’ve loved you for a long time. Don’t be afraid to want more. I will always give myself willingly to you. I would follow you to the edge of this world if you’d have me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And with that, Neria knew. She knew that Nathaniel was earnest in his desires. That he wouldn’t just leave her after a quick fuck. And maybe she had been foolish in denying herself the pleasure that could’ve been that now was. Or possibly things would crash and burn like they always did. But for once, Neria felt confident in taking that leap of faith. She desperately shoved aside the faint voice in her head that accused her of betraying Leliana.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Even if the ghost of a past relationship wasn’t haunting her, she still had reservations. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She could easily be called anywhere at Weisshaupt’s insistence, and Nathaniel couldn’t follow. Though, Neria knew that it wouldn’t be for lack of effort. On the flip side, she didn’t want to hold him back from making a name for himself. If Weisshaupt mandated her to stay at Vigil’s Keep for the rest of her service, she would be obliged. And she didn’t want Nathaniel feeling like a kept pet. Still, those thoughts could wait until morning. “Kiss me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He obeyed her order, as he always did. This time, the kiss was filled with a heated passion. There was no longer that hesitancy. What replaced it was a sense of urgency, probably because the two Wardens realized they could’ve done this years prior. What fools they had been. It didn’t matter if she was his superior. It didn’t matter if he was seven years her senior. None of that ever mattered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He kissed her very thoroughly. He was firm, yet gentle—teasing, yet all too eager to give in to pleasure. Things became more intense as he nipped gently at her bottom lip. Neria let out a quiet moan. Nathaniel smiled into the kiss, very pleased with his partner’s reaction. From there, he slipped his tongue into her mouth, deepening the kiss. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neria’s wandering hands eventually found themselves pulling at Nathaniel’s hair. Dark like hers, she always had an appreciation for the way it looked. Only now, she realized how soft it was. Silky smooth against her calloused hands. He appreciated her taking control back, seeing as he became more pliant the harder she pulled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their conversation was entirely wordless. Searing kisses and the sharp nip of teeth. They moved in tandem. It was if they knew what the other wanted - no, needed - even if they didn’t know themselves. It was the culmination of years-long pining (subconsciously, on her part)  that ended in an endless declaration of </span>
  <em>
    <span>I love you; I love you; I love you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Three words that meant nothing and everything at the same time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tomorrow, Neria’s relationship with one of her oldest companions would be different. For the time being, she wanted to live in the moment. She could save the overthinking for the morning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neria pulled back to catch some air, her heavy breathing an indication of her desire. Nathaniel was in no better shape. His raven black hair all mussed up, lips kiss-swollen coated with a light sheen of saliva. She took a moment to appreciate how he looked. He was rarely vulnerable with her in the past, but now she could see the wanton hunger so blatantly in his eyes. She could feel the way his hands slipped under her doublet and ghosted along her lower back and up her spine. The sensation was intoxicating. She surged forward to latch her lips onto his neck, his stubble stinging ever-so-slightly as she nipped and sucked at the skin on the intersection of jaw and throat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neria knew all too well that love came in many forms. She knew that she loved Alistair like he was her blood. The love she shared with Zevran was easy. He was her soulmate in every sense of the word. He would do anything Neria asked of him. They were each other’s hearts; they were always fated to change each other for the better. Leliana had been the most passionate love of them all. There had been that initial infatuation, yes, but that grew into a more mature love. Neria thought she would retire as the hero and have her lover as well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So this feeling, Neria realized, was different from the other great loves of her life. This love stemmed from respect not so easily won. Nathaniel’s love for her had nothing to do with her fancy title or physical features. He looked past the hurt and the scars and saw a flawed person. This love understood the ultimate sacrifice they would both make if (when, if they didn’t find the cure), the Calling claimed them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so, it made sense that he kissed Neria with every ounce of passion he had left to give. After all, they were living on borrowed time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>___________________</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>When Neria woke the next morning, she felt an arm draped around her waist and someone’s breath on her neck. For a split second, she wondered who it could be. Then the memories from the previous night came rushing back to her. She remembered a confession. She also remembered the love-making that ensued after. Alcohol always seemed to complicate her life. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shrugged off the offending limb and groaned when she realized that the sunlight was a bit too bright for the fierce headache she was sporting. “Nate, it’s time to get up. Maker knows I need some water</span>
</p><p>
  <span> right about now.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Must we? It’s not likely that Velanna and Sigrun will be at Montsimmard when we get there. They’re on the way back from the Western Approach, after all,” Nathaniel groaned as he rolled onto his back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neria rolled her eyes. “They always make good on their word. You know that. Besides, we wasted an extra day wandering around Val Royeaux.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, yes, but...when was the last time that we could watch a proper Summerday celebration?” Nathaniel countered. A wry smile made its way onto his face. “And I wasn’t the only one who enjoyed the hero’s welcome.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re terrible. I certainly wish they’d tone down the pomp and circumstance whenever I make an appearance in that blighted city. You save the world once, and they think that all of the parties thrown in your honor get rid of all of the systematic abuses you’ve suffered,” the mage whined. “And the worst part is that the university was useless with the lead.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you should try being less obvious about your appearance. Your idea of a disguise is putting your hood up and hoping no one looks too closely at your face. If you really wanted to, you could put a glamour on.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neria huffed and began to untangle her clothes from Nathaniel’s, choosing to ignore his teasing. “How long have we been at this? Three years and all we’ve got to show for it is a useless journal and the First Warden’s anger.” She tossed the rogue’s clothes to him as he sat up from his bedroll. Well, their shared bedroll now. There’d been no need for her to crawl into her own after Nathaniel bedded her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He caught them just before they landed right in his face. “We knew that this wouldn’t be easy. Besides, we’re bound to find something eventually. Maybe Velanna and Sigrun had better luck.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I should’ve taken their job instead. I prefer the Deep Roads to Orlesian society,” Neria said, lacing up the front of her black doublet and leather pants. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nathaniel dressed as well. Once he was finished, he pinned his hair up with a silver griffon pin. A gift from Delilah from when he last saw her. “While I share the sentiment, do you think that Velanna would do any better in high society? It’s a damn miracle that she’s mellowed out over the years, but she’s still a demon to be reckoned with.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No immediate response followed. Neria concentrated on braiding her midnight black hair. Nathaniel’s eyes softened as he watched her. A soft warmth blossomed in his chest. “Here, let me help.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not unless you’re familiar with the Tevinter style,” Neria quipped. “I’ve been doing this since I was a girl. I can do it myself .” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Indulge me, then. I’ve not had the luxury before,” Nathaniel replied. Blue eyes met gold ones, and that all too familiar feeling of adoration washed over him. Maker, was he in deep now. He had been for the past seven years. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neria perked up at that. She let the strands fall flat and waved her companion (no, lover - no, she didn’t know what they were now) over. “I’ve always let you guys braid my hair. Hell, it was Anders’ favorite thing after a stressful day. Why didn’t you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Truthfully? I thought it’d reveal too much. My hands would tremble, and you’d surely figure out exactly how I felt. You forget that you were the impossibly intimidating hero. Not to mention, you were already spoken for at the time.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neria tensed as she recalled bits of the conversation from last night. “True enough, I suppose.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Copper for your thoughts?” Nathaniel asked. He ran his fingers through her thick, black hair. He was no lady’s maid from Orlais, but he did pick up the skills at Delilah’s insistence when they were children. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Normally, I’d say it’s nothing. But I realize that this...complicates everything,” the mage admitted. In her younger years, she was terrible about bottling up her feelings. Even now, to some extent. It was something she always tried to work on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How so? I thought that we cleared up everything last night,” Nathaniel mused. He finished up the braid and tied off the ends with the gold ribbon Neria offered. He noted how worn it was, how the edges were frayed, and unrefined needlework kept it from unraveling. A gift, he surmised. His stomach churned as he realized who (most likely) gave her the ribbon. She turned to face him, an unreadable look plastered on her face. Even with their years of friendship, she could still be an enigma if it pleased her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but...well...how do I put this? We’re past the whole ‘I love you’ thing. I know you’d follow me anywhere. And I’d do the same for you. It’s just, what do you want?” she asked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I meant what I said, I’d follow anywhere. I’d still be your companion, but I had hoped that I would be your lover as well.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The silence was deafening. The morning birds chirped, and the leaves rustled as a breeze stirred the sweet summer air. “Look, Nathaniel -” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t go using my full name, Neria Surana. I know exactly what’s going on in that head of yours -” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then you should know why I have concerns about our...situation. What happens if I have to venture off to some blighted land, not part of Thedas? What happens when command at Weisshaupt </span>
  <em>
    <span>gently </span>
  </em>
  <span>reminds me of my post in Ferelden? What happens if I admit that Leliana still has a small part of my heart?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neria paused, mind racing as she realized that she said something she couldn’t take back. But, she needed to. She had learned that loving someone meant telling them the truth, even when it could hurt. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt either of them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rogue’s eyes widened at her outburst. While it wasn’t wholly unexpected, it was still a shock to hear his companion (lover?) admit hard truths (she had never been an open book). He knew that the situation between Neria and Leliana was complicated. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The mage realized that much last night. He was there when she received the news that Leliana was to be Divine Justinia’s Left Hand. He was there when the redhead surprised the Warden-Commander after the whole disaster in Amaranthine. So, Nathaniel knew that they loved each other. He also knew that they argued. From what he gathered, Leliana was always anxious about her former lover. That caused tension whenever Neria needed to travel to other nations for Grey Warden business or political reasons. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I love you, wholeheartedly. And, honestly, I’d have to be a fool not to realize that you still have some form of attachment to Leliana. You said so yourself last night. I’m asking for you, right here right now, to love me and stay with me. And that will be something you choose for yourself every day. Listen, I’m not worried about the future. No matter what you choose, I will be by your side. I will always choose to stay at your side. I will be your travel companion for as long as you’ll have me. I won’t let my one-sided love ruin our friendship. I respect you too much for that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neria still had that guarded look on her face. She knew that she’d need to choose, eventually. As much as Nathaniel went on about how he’d be content to share, she knew better. Nathaniel Howe had very few things in his life that brought a smile to his face. Leliana didn’t like to walk away from a situation without closure. Neither would share. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For now, at least, Neria could afford to be selfish with her love. A small smile eventually graced her lips. She looked into blue eyes. Eyes so expressive that they took her breath away. “I know. We’ll take this one day at a time, yeah?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The conversation was far from over. As Nathaniel said, it wasn’t a discussion about the future. There would be time for that, eventually. Hopefully. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She cupped his face and planted a chaste kiss on his forehead. “Come on, Nate. Our favorite elf and dwarf are waiting for us in Montsimmard.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now, it was Nathaniel’s turn to smile. It had been a long time since someone indeed honestly returned his feelings. “Yes, Neria.” </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Inspired by Sonnet 116 - Shakespeare </p><p>Let me not to the marriage of true minds<br/>Admit impediments. Love is not love<br/>Which alters when it alteration finds,<br/>Or bends with the remover to remove.<br/>O no! it is an ever-fixed mark<br/>That looks on tempests and is never shaken;<br/>It is the star to every wand'ring bark,<br/>Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.<br/>Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks<br/>Within his bending sickle's compass come;<br/>Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,<br/>But bears it out even to the edge of doom.<br/>If this be error and upon me prov'd,<br/>I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. I loved a love once, fairest among women</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>History repeats itself. Maybe Neria will learn from her past mistakes.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Wild that it's been a month since I last updated. University and work take a lot out of me some days, and it can be hard to find the motivation to do anything other than sleep.  With that said, if you find yourself reading this chapter, I hope you enjoy it. This work really is a labor of love, seeing how Dragon Age has been important to me since 2013.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>9:40 Dragon 13th day of Solace - Vigil's Keep </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>The day had started off pleasant enough. Shame it didn't stay that way. The meandering Grey Wardens of Vigil's Keep observed the ensuing argument between Warden-Commander Neria Surana and Warden-Constable Nathaniel Howe. The two were usually private people, choosing to wear a guarded face instead of wearing their hearts on their sleeves. Not today, though. Today was different. </p><p> </p><p>Word had spread that Neria was to go off on a specialized mission. After years of fruitless endeavors, she finally had a lead on a cure to the Calling. But, she couldn't conduct a further investigation from the keep. Rumor had it that the information was time-sensitive. She would need to leave soon if she were to have any chance to properly follow up on the lead. </p><p> </p><p>Rumor also had it that she would need to travel to the Anderfels. However, most of it was pure speculation. The rumor mill always churned out half-baked truths and flat out lies. And though the wardens of Vigil's Keep knew that living with Neria allowed Nathaniel ample time to snoop through her missives, he would be tight-lipped about any information he uncovered. </p><p> </p><p>All the wardens could do was watch on. Nobody at the keep wanted to lose their Warden-Commander. Neria was an admirable woman. She cared for the junior members and recruits as much as she could in her position. Everyone knew that while she wasn't afforded the luxury of sentimentality, she did her best to protect her family. </p><p> </p><p>"Nate, listen, this is not up for discussion -" </p><p> </p><p>Neria tried her best to save face. She didn't want to let those under her command know that she was terrified. She needed to maintain the vision of strength. Nathaniel, on the other hand, didn't buy it. He could see the tension she carried in her shoulders. He could see the desperate look in her eyes. The one that begged him to stop pushing the subject. </p><p> </p><p>"Well, it should be!" </p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel was a stubborn man. Few things had brought him joy over the past years. After enduring countless hardships, his relationship with Neria kept him grounded. She was someone he could weather the storm with. It terrified him, the possibility of Neria dying in a faraway land. Especially when he stated in his initial declaration of love that he would follow her to the ends of the world. He was sincere in that declaration, and he would make good on his promise. </p><p> </p><p>"And why's that?" </p><p> </p><p>Truthfully, Neria didn't want to leave Nathaniel. More than anything, she wanted him at her side. This quest was for him as well as for her. In fact, the mission affected anyone unfortunate enough to love a Grey Warden. </p><p> </p><p>"You would've left without saying anything!" </p><p> </p><p>The situation had devolved from a civil, albeit emotionally charged, conversation to a screaming match. Surely, even those in the basement of the keep could hear the Warden-Commander and her Warden-Constable going at it. </p><p> </p><p>"No, that's not true…" </p><p> </p><p>Neria knew it was wrong to keep the true nature of her mission secret for so long. But, she made a promise to command at Weisshaupt. The information was on a strict need to know basis. It wouldn't benefit anyone for junior members to go spouting nonsense about a nonexistent cure. In fact, the only other person who knew the exact details outside of Weisshaupt was the Orlesian Warden-Commander. </p><p> </p><p>Though, she wasn't sure why the First Warden and High Constable deemed Clarel trustworthy. That woman would absolutely run headfirst into any possibility of a cure before thinking about the long-term consequences. </p><p> </p><p>"Neria, please. Don't lie to me. I know you. You would've left without so much as goodbye!"</p><p> </p><p>Deep down, Nathaniel knew that he was unfair. Based on the 'secret' letters he had read in their room, he knew it was confidential information his lover was handling. He knew that he shouldn't have let his curiosity get the better of him.</p><p> </p><p>"Nate, please -" </p><p> </p><p>"Don't interrupt me!"</p><p> </p><p>"I never meant to hurt you…"</p><p> </p><p>"Well, you did. How could you actually think I wouldn't come after you? I promised you that I would go wherever you'd go. We're in this together." </p><p> </p><p>Neria sighed. "I know." </p><p> </p><p>"Then you know that I'm coming with. Doesn't matter if you approve or not." </p><p> </p><p>The conversation was eerily similar to one she had years ago with a different lover. This one would yield a happier ending. </p><p> </p><p>___</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel Howe was someone who wasn't easily dissuaded. Earlier, he could tell that Neria had been trying her best to push him away. Nathaniel wasn't an idiot. And she wasn't as much of an enigma as he thought she was. The only reason she tried to leave him behind was that she was scared. He had read some of the letters addressed to her. He knew that their destination (Maker knew wherever it was) would be completely foreign. He knew that it was just as likely they would come back empty-handed, or not at all. </p><p> </p><p>And perhaps it was selfish of him. After years of rebuilding the Grey Warden presence in Ferelden, there were many senior and junior members. However, they lacked the battle experience Nathaniel and Neria both had. The past year only yielded darkspawn skirmishes every once in a while. It wouldn't have been a problem had Velanna, Sigrun, or even Oghren opted to stay in Ferelden. No, those three were perpetually on the road. Sometimes together, often not. The last time Nathaniel saw either of them was in Montsimmard, just over two years ago. There was no doubt the help that the other senior wardens provided proved invaluable. They just preferred traveling to politicking within the Order. Neria wasn't fond of the posturing and preening either. She only tolerated it out of necessity.  </p><p> </p><p>As Nathaniel continued to rummage through his belongings, he heard faint footsteps grow louder as someone climbed the set of stairs that led to his shared room with Neria. The visitor paused right outside the room before knocking on the door. Announcing their presence as a formality since Nathaniel already knew who it was. He could recognize those graceful footsteps anywhere. </p><p> </p><p>"Look, I'm sorry. I know it was wrong, and I should've told you about the mission earlier. Frankly? I was terrified when I got the news. Not for me, but because I knew you'd insist on tagging along." </p><p> </p><p>The rogue stilled as Neria's voice washed over him. He turned to face her. "I know why you didn't tell me. That still doesn't make it okay, though. We're supposed to be partners, right?" </p><p> </p><p>Her amber eyes flitted over the room, taking in its state of disarray. "I see there's no chance of talking you out of this?" </p><p> </p><p>"Not a chance," Nathaniel stated, plain as day. "And you didn't answer my question."</p><p> </p><p>Neria sighed at his admission. "Better pack for the weather, then. We'll have plenty of time to talk while traveling. We're sailing for Cumberland. After, we're going to follow the Imperial Highway until we need to part for Weisshaupt. From there, it's to the ruins around Nordbotten."</p><p> </p><p>"Maker's breath. So, it's true? We're really going west?" Nathaniel asked, uncertainty weighing heavy on his tongue. "You really think there's something worth finding in the Anderfels?"</p><p> </p><p>"Evidently, someone has been reading top-secret missives without permission," Neria replied, "And I thought I told you to stop rummaging around my stuff. High Constable Oberon wouldn't be too happy if he found out." A smarmy smile crawled onto her face, making her appear like her younger, light-hearted self again. </p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel chuckled. "Well, the High Constable can kiss my ass for all I care." </p><p> </p><p>Neria feigned a shocked look on her face. While they hadn't entirely resolved the tension, the mage had no desire to bring up the dragon in the room. She could play along, for now, knowing that they had plenty of time to talk while at sea. "Blasphemy! Slander! Oh, the horror. Tell me, how should I punish you for your insubordination?" </p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel's blue eyes caught her amber ones, and he saw the playful glint he knew so well. Two could play at that game. "I dare say, you should punish me with that technique you do with your tongue when you -" </p><p> </p><p>The mage barked out a hearty laugh. "Keep on dreaming, Howe. You have to pack your bags since you only just decided to join me on the adventure of a lifetime. We leave the day after tomorrow since you've delayed my original plans." </p><p> </p><p>He smiled in return. Years prior, he had no trouble drawing out a snicker or a cough fronted as a giggle. It came so naturally to him. His glibness rarely did him credit when he was younger, but now Neria found his tongue less barbed and more mischievous. Even so, the most challenging noise to elicit was the strident sound of her laughter. The kind that stemmed from deep within the chest and warmed the entire body. The kind that made her seem less perfect and less of a legend. Almost like the woman he helplessly fell in love with long ago. "Yes, I'll get to it. I wouldn't want to delay you further." </p><p> </p><p>Neria rolled her eyes, knowing that he would absolutely keep her awake half the night with several rounds of love-making. "Always a tease, Howe. If you forget to pack your winter clothes, that'll be on you. If you need me, come find me in my office. I'll be writing a few letters and informing Senior Warden Araminta of her newfound duties since <em>someone </em>will be leaving their post with such short notice." </p><p> </p><p>____</p><p> </p><p>While Neria hadn't precisely lied, she hadn't exactly told the truth either. Sure, she<em> was </em>going to write a letter to Alistair (and Anora, lest the queen found out Neria excluded her) as well as Morrigan, but she was also going to send one to Leliana. </p><p> </p><p>The thought was daunting since Neria hadn't replied to the Left Hand of the Divine in well over four years - bordering on five. Still, that impossibly frustrating woman found a way to track her down whenever she could. It didn't matter if Neria refused to respond or was stationed in Montsimmard or even spent time with Zevran in Rialto. The mage suspected that Leliana sent the letters out of habit rather than genuine concern. Her former partner must've realized that if she hadn't responded in so many years, she wouldn't start now. But they couldn't face each other. Otherwise, they would've broken things off for good a long time ago. </p><p> </p><p>She hadn't told Nathaniel because she didn't want to reopen old wounds. The rogue was somewhat insecure in their relationship's early days, even though he hid it reasonably well. His main concern was that there had been no closure between the Hero and the Left Hand. He assumed that with her last relationship in a state of perpetual limbo, she couldn't give her entire heart to him. Sure, Nathaniel had indicated that he wasn't concerned about the future, but Neria could easily read him. </p><p> </p><p>Once he got over his paranoia, a beautiful relationship blossomed between Neria and Nathaniel. They just...understood each other. His possessiveness mellowed out into a comfortable protectiveness, always there, but never overbearing. Until now, he had been content with holding down Vigil's Keep while Neria was called away on Warden business every once in a while. </p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel was her partner in everything. </p><p> </p><p>Even so, Neria would be remiss if she didn't send what could possibly be her last correspondence with Leliana. </p><p> </p><p>Neria still held a fondness in her heart for the Orlesian. But it had faded after years of a strained relationship and the eventual severance of it. She hadn't been in love with Leliana for years, but that didn't mean that she didn't care about her. Neria genuinely cared about her well-being and happiness. She hoped that Leliana had been able to find someone who loved just as profoundly as the bard did. </p><p> </p><p>And so, it only seemed fitting that Neria wrote to her. Not as a lover writing a final love letter, but as an old companion, seeking closure in what could be their last words exchanged. Neria knew that love came in many forms. It would do more harm than good to leave without notifying Leliana. </p><p> </p><p>______</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>9:40 Dragon 18th day of Solace - Val Royeaux - Grand Cathedral </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>With Leliana's job, it was no wonder that she received so many letters daily. Being the Left Hand of the Divine was hard work. She had secrets to procure and plans to execute. But, more pressingly, she served at Divine Justinia's side as the mages around Thedas rebelled. </p><p> </p><p>(She desperately shooed away the thoughts about Neria. Being a mage in Thedas was hard enough. Even though Leliana knew that Neria was a powerful mage - one of the most powerful she'd seen in a long time - she still couldn't help but worry for her safety. Even the most powerful of mages succumbed to demons or to the Templar will.) </p><p> </p><p>Still, despite all that, she was curious when she received a letter with no clue as to who the sender was. Well, almost no clue. There was a hastily scribbled "NS" in oddly familiar handwriting. So, Leliana had an inkling of who it was from but was still in disbelief.</p><p> </p><p>After all this time, why would Neria write to her now? It made little sense, seeing as the two hadn't been in a relationship for more than four years, going on five. Sure, they never received closure, but Leliana assumed they were past that. She was content to live her life knowing Neria made a home out of Vigil's Keep. </p><p> </p><p>She eyed the letter on her desk, curious. Perhaps it was another sign from the Maker. Many years ago, it was Leliana's dream which motivated her to join Neria's group. Maybe this was the Maker's way of acknowledging that some loves could stand the push and pull of time. </p><p> </p><p>She sighed and reached for her letter opener. It was a pretty thing, all silver and jeweled and sharp as a sword. Neria brought it back as a souvenir from Orlais, claiming the trinket reminded her of Leliana. Perhaps she was right. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Leliana,  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> It's been far too long since we've exchanged letters. Even longer since we've seen each other in person. There are many things I want to say, but I'll try to keep this brief. Firstly, I apologize for my silence over the years. At first, it was because I couldn't bear to write to you. I was distraught after our argument. Once I got over the hurt, I feared it would be uncomfortable for both of us. I never intended to make things more complicated than they were, but I'm afraid I did so anyway.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Second, what I'm about to tell you is top secret, even though you may already know. Over the years, Nate, Velanna, Sigrun, and Oghren have been a great help in my endeavors to finding a cure for the Calling. While a cure isn't guaranteed, what we have discovered may one day help future Wardens with the same goal.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> This leads me to my third point. With this great news, there also comes the potential for great sorrow. Nate and I are leaving for the Anderfels in two days. I can't give any more information than that, but I would be remiss if I went on my last adventure without telling you. Over the years, I have learned to live with my regrets and failures, as I'm sure you have. But if Nate and I don't come back...I don't want you to hear of it from anyone else.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> There was a time when you insisted on tagging along to Vigil's Keep nine or so years ago. I foolishly pushed you away because I wanted to protect you. I know that we do not love each other as lovers, but should you feel the need to send one of your agents after me, heed my warning: don't. This mission is top secret and dangerous for a reason. Nate, in his infinite wisdom, has a death wish, apparently. He's too stubborn to drop this, and I've gone soft with time.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And don't worry about Alistair and Zevran. I've written similar letters to them as well. They know what I must do and the potential price of my actions. If I don't come back, give all my love to them. Morrigan may not be as comforting in her advice, and they will need your guidance.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> This may not be goodbye, but it very well could be. If Nate and I do come back, no worse for wear, it would be my pleasure to invite the Left Hand of the Divine to Vigil's Keep. There is much to catch up on that I can't include in this letter for brevity's sake. In fact, I'm afraid I've written more than I intended to.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Even so, there is one final message you must hear: while there are many regrets in my life, being your lover was never one of them. With that being said, I hope you find your peace, Leliana.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Warm regards,  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Neria  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Leliana blinked, a blank look on her face. Indeed, what she read couldn't be true. </p><p> </p><p>She reread the letter precisely three more times, and by the end of the third reading, she finally let out the tears that had been welling up in her eyes. </p><p> </p><p>Suffice to say, the letter was nothing like she was expecting. Her initial instinct to go chasing after Neria was halted by two notable facts. </p><p> </p><p>One, Neria no longer had any obligation to her beyond lukewarm friendship. While their relationship lasted six years, they spent the past four in awkward silence and one-sided communication on Leliana's part. The fact that Neria broke her silence after so long indicated just how dangerous her mission was. </p><p> </p><p>Leliana had the general gist of what Neria was planning on accomplishing. She wasn't surprised when she caught wind of the fact that her former lover, in her endless ambition, sought out another impossible task. Leliana used to joke that Neria wouldn't stop until the world bent to her will. Now, it seemed there was a kernel of truth to that statement. After defeating a blight in a year and saving Amaranthine from near destruction, she did the impossible twice over. </p><p> </p><p>A dull ache seeped through her chest - making her breath hitch the tiniest bit. Though their lives were vastly different now, Leliana would've given anything to travel with Neria to ensure her safety. Based on her intel (not that she frequently spied on Neria), she knew Nathaniel was a superb archer, but she still doubted his capabilities to protect Neria. The only substitute for herself that she would prefer to travel with Neria would've been Zevran, but he was off dismantling the Crows in Antiva. A lifelong dream, now becoming a reality. Leliana wasn't selfish enough to ask that of Zevran. </p><p> </p><p>Two, she couldn't leave Divine Justinia's side on a whim - though her reasons were valid. Had things gone differently, perhaps she would've been the one insisting on tagging along, as she once did all those years ago. Or maybe they would've fallen out, just over a different matter. Either way, Leliana could dwell on ifs and whats all day long, but the fact still remained that Neria (and Nathaniel) planned on traveling to the Anderfels.</p><p> </p><p>She glanced at her journal, eyeing the current date in the top corner of the open page. The letter, dated five days ago, indicated that the pair had already started their journey west. </p><p> </p><p>Though she loathed the idea, she had one possible ace up her sleeve. While she wasn't permitted to leave, nor Zevran or Alistair, she could still send an agent after Neria - despite her wish. Neria's letter indicated that Nathaniel was stubborn enough to strongarm Neria into letting him tag along. This time, Leliana would dig her heels in and do the same. </p><p> </p><p>Leliana had two possible agents in mind. Two travelers skilled enough to travel alongside two Grey Wardens. </p><p> </p><p>Surely, Neria wouldn't be happy. No, Leliana was sure enough that Neria would send her agent back with a stern talking-to and a message. But it was worth trying. </p><p> </p><p>Anything would be better than Leliana becoming a worrywart over someone she had no obligations to. If one of her agents followed along, even in secret, she would sleep better knowing that if Neria had more than just Nathaniel (and presumably Sparky, the mutt proved to be a fixed figure in Neria's life for the past nine years) by her side. </p><p> </p><p>As it stood, Leliana's first choice was an Ander woman named Gwyenneth, Gwyn, for short. Several years before, the redhead had first met Gwyn as her duties carried her to Kirkwall after a particular apostate incited the mage rebellion. It had been an accident, as all of Leliana's meaningful encounters had been when Leliana spied Gwyn hiding in the shadows of the ruined city. Initially, Leliana thought she was just another lowly thief, wanting to prey on Kirkwall's innocent people as they fled the ensuing violence that rained blood in the streets. </p><p> </p><p>But the reality was, Gwyn was just another victim caught in the fray of senseless bloodshed. The woman, then in her late twenties, now in her early thirties, needed something she could believe in - not necessarily faith, but a cause. Leliana saw a bit of herself in Gwyn. She recruited her as one of her personal agents. </p><p> </p><p>Gwyn held mastery over dual-wielding weapons. And her past as a thief granted her an unusual fighting style. The best way to describe it was a mix of the Chevalier's technique and the brashness of a Grey Warden, her being from the Anderfels and all. </p><p> </p><p>But, in sending Gwyn, Leliana would lose valuable personnel. The redhead was able to trust Gwyn with time-sensitive tasks, which required reconnaissance. But, most of all, Leliana relied on Gwyn for companionship - a challenging feat to accomplish when threats were lurking in every shadow of the gilded city of Val Royeaux. </p><p> </p><p>Leliana fought back a headache as she thought about her options.</p><p> </p><p>Sure, Gwyn was the obvious choice, but would it be reasonable to send a trusted agent when there was no guarantee that Neria and Nathaniel would come back? </p><p> </p><p>Caspar, Leliana's second choice and mercenary-turned-agent, was no doubt just as skilled in battle, but he had the disadvantage since he lacked connections in the Anderfels as Gwyn did. Even so, he would provide sufficient aid should Neria and Nathaniel require it. </p><p> </p><p>Initially, Leliana didn't see much promise in Caspar. He was loud- arguably, obnoxiously loud - and way too impulsive. She saw him a brute, and not one fitting in her agenda as the Left Hand. But, Leliana had a habit of taking in strays, as her peers would fondly call her agents. </p><p> </p><p>He eventually earned a hard worker's reputation, never one for shirking his duties or complaining about his tasks. </p><p> </p><p>Though Leliana loathed the thought of it, Caspar was less valuable to her than Gwyn was. If he failed to return, she would be able to replace him. Gwyn was an agent with useful connections in the west, where the Chantry's influence was sometimes overshadowed by other machinations. </p><p> </p><p>Difficult choice after difficult choice, Leliana's life was far from what she envisioned for herself ten years ago. </p><p> </p><p>She sat up straight, refining her posture as she prepared to write a letter. What little faith she had left, she didn't want to waste on what could end in unbearable heartbreak. </p><p> </p><p>Being the Left Hand of the Divine was hard work. Leliana (normally) wasn't afforded the sentimentality that others had. But with this? She knew that faith alone wouldn't bring Neria home safely. She could justify her actions as protecting a diplomat and the Hero of Fereldan. </p><p> </p><p>She began to write, carefully instructing what Caspar's mission would be. As one of her newer agents, he would jump at the chance of being sent out on a more extended assignment after months of scouting missions. </p><p> </p><p>"<em>Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide </em>."</p><p> </p><p>She glanced over her handiwork, a sad smile gracing her lips. No, she couldn't persuade Neria to change her mind. But, she would sleep better at night, knowing that Caspar would be a worthy travel companion. </p><p> </p><p>"Bring them home safe." </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Inspired by The Old Familiar Faces by Charles Lamb </p><p>I loved a love once, fairest among women;<br/>Closed are her doors on me, I must not see her —<br/>All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. A mortal thing so to immortalize</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Neria never was religious in the sense that she believed in the Maker or Andraste. However, she was religious in the sense that her love for her partner superseded other desires and goals.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My goodness. Sorry, it's been so long since the last time I've posted. Last semester was incredibly busy towards the end and I worked so much over winter break. I really do love this fic and hope to continue it when I can. It's a great outlet to help me organize my thoughts and feelings that I think are too troublesome to talk to friends. University's started up again, but hopefully, this doesn't deter me from writing more. Also, funnily enough, life seems to imitate art in the sense that I have a fondness for a coworker who is eight years older than me. At least Neria for Nathaniel, the seven year age gap they have is all but inconsequential.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>9:39 Dragon Satinalia, Firstfall - Vigil's Keep </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The faint sound of a dog barking roused Neria from her slumber. As her consciousness began to make sense of the lingering images of the Fade from her dream, the dog barking becoming louder as she sensed the beast running up the stairs. She groaned as she realized she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. Dawn's gentle light peered through the opening of the curtains in her - well, their -room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neria glanced over at the still sleeping body next to her in bed. The golden-pink haze of the rising sun suited Nathaniel. The morning light accentuated his already sharp features, such as his cheekbones and brow bones. Her eyes drifted to the faint wrinkles around his lips and eyes - a sign that he'd had years filled with laughter and smiles. A lazy smile worked its way onto her face as her gaze lingered on a thin stripe of white skin that caressed his left cheekbone. A small reminder of the day he fell face-first into a thorny thicket, the day of their first anniversary. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So much had changed within the past year, some for the worse, but so many more for the better. Neria had Nathaniel to thank for that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Her partner was as rare and beautiful as any Orlesian hand-carved statue. Sure, he had some cracks and chips, but he was beautiful nonetheless. He was impossibly bright on the days that the mage felt like she could no longer feel the warmth of the sun. Neria was not a devout Andrastian - far from it. Her years in the Circle actually turned her away from the Chant. However, Nathaniel was near enough proof for her to believe in the Maker once again. Loving him was a religious experience, the most sacred of rites. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>(She once thought the same of Leliana.)</strike>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neria leaned over to gingerly kiss the small scar, careful not to wake Nathaniel. She breathed in his scent, and the feeling of home came flooding all at once. He was the shelter from the storm as well as the explosive force. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As much as the mage wanted the peaceful moment to linger, it was inevitable that something would pry them away from their little haven. Neria sighed as she felt her mabari's presence before she could hear him bounding up the stairs. Indeed Sparky was loud enough to wake up the entire keep. He burst through the door, dramatic as ever, and leaped onto the bed; Neria was happy to receive the hound's affection, but Nathaniel was less than so about the slobber dripping onto his face, ultimately rousing him from his slumber. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Blessed Andraste. You'd think on today of all days that we'd get to sleep in for however long we want," Nathaniel grumbled, wiping his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neria chuckled. "Oh, come off it, Nate. Sparky just wants attention. Something you two have in common." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She smooshed Sparky's face between her small hands, peppering feather-light kisses all over him. Nathaniel only side-eyed her obnoxiously sweet display of affection.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Decidedly more awake at his lover's gentle teasing, he gave a section of Neria's impossibly black hair a small tug. "We do not. That beast just doesn't know the luxury that is sleeping in." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sparky lightly nipped at Nathaniel's fingers, not enough to draw blood but hard enough to serve as a warning. Said man complained as Neria masked her laugh with a cough. "Obviously, he doesn't like it when you call him a 'beast,' dear. You used to call him by his name all the time. What happened?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I realized that he was purposefully tormenting me by stealing your attention while we were in bed. He knows exactly what he's doing. Clever dog," Nathaniel said, without a hint of vitriol in his voice. Try as he might, he held a similar fondness for Sparky as Neria did. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Of course he does. He's a mabari. He's bonded to me," Neria snickered, "He'll always want my attention." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm starting to think you'd rather sleep next to the dog than me." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The comically overdone pout and puppy eyes on Nathaniel's part further served as Neria's entertainment. As much as Nathaniel jokingly griped about the war hound, Neria knew that he was fond of the so-called 'beast.' She had seen him feeding Sparky table scraps (against her orders). When she returned to the keep after an assignment, she would often find Sparky huddled next to her partner - both of them keeping each other company. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Alright, time to get up. As much as I want to, we can't laze about all day. We still need to finish preparations for tonight's feast." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nathaniel feigned annoyance as he shifted into an upright position. "We finished yesterday. What else is there to do?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neria gave her bedmate a coy smile. "Well, I have it on good authority that we'll have a special guest or two later on. I certainly wouldn't want to disappoint them." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nathaniel raised a brow in consideration. Last he heard, they weren't expecting any guests at the keep for Satinalia. Although the news was surprising, it wasn't unwelcome. "Oh? And who are we hosting for?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ah, there's no way I'm telling you. It's supposed to be a surprise." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You've never been able to keep a secret from me, my dear. As much as you pride yourself on your stoicism, I can read you like a book." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At that, Neria looked at Nathaniel with all of the affection she could muster. Sure, others could try and pick her thoughts apart like some academic mystery, but she was not the sum of her parts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so, in that early morning light, Neria realized that there's a certain tenderness to being known. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Love doesn't have to be some grand epiphany that comes in the aftermath of battle - though her and Nathaniel's confession was rather dramatic - it can come in the earliest of mornings and the latest of nights. It stemmed from Nathaniel knowing her favorite tea; it stemmed from Neria knowing Nathaniel's preferred method of putting up his hair - the one that reminded him of Delilah and their childhood. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I know." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>____</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neria and Nathaniel wasted several more hours in bed, much to Neria's chagrin. By the time they arose from their chambers, it was almost noon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When the Warden-Commander and the Warden-Constable finally made an appearance at lunch, the others shot knowing glances in their direction. The fact that they were sleeping together was the worst kept secret in Amaranthine. Word spread like wildfire when Captain Garevel accidentally caught the two sharing a heated kiss during dawn patrol. Several bets were cashed in later on that same day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(Warden Araminta Powell became a hated woman, seeing as she traded a month of dawn patrol for a month of noon. Neria heard complaints for two weeks.) </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pair spotted a table with the Seneschal, Captain of the Guard, and Mistress Woolsey. Already in a casual conversation, the occupants spared them a quick nod as a greeting as the two sauntered up with their meal. Neria wormed her way into a spot between the Captain and the Seneschal. At the same time, Nathaniel was left to sit across from his partner next to Woolsey. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Everything has gone according to plan, as far as tonight's events go. Those participating in Warden's Exchange have their gifts and pranks sorted out for after the feast. Speaking of, those on kitchen staff are marvelous, and we should be on schedule for just after nightfall," Seneschal Varel said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> The aging man - now nearing sixty years - was the heart of daily life at the Vigil. While Neria and Nathaniel dealt with the arling and assigned errands to task forces, Varel made sure the keep didn't fall into disarray. He also seemed to magically know everything and everyone. Somehow, even the faintest whispers of gossip managed to get to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Captain Garevel smiled. "You never cease to amaze me, friend. We're at our highest number of occupants in a long time, and you somehow keep everything from falling apart." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes, it's quite admirable how you manage to keep the ruffians in line. I swear, they think they can bother the commander all hours of the day, like she isn't the arlessa as well," Mistress Woolsey added cooly, sipping on her drink. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neria momentarily choked on her food. Nathaniel reached across the table to lay a hand on Neria's clenched fist. She swatted him away, signaling that she was, indeed, fine. "Wools, you and Lord Etriel are the rulers of Amaranthine as much as I am. Maker knows what I'd do without guidance from either of you." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mistress Woolsey arched a brow and scoffed at Neria's nickname for her. "Warden-Commander, you know how much I detest that childish nickname. It was fine when you first became arlessa. Still, the behavior is hardly befitting a fully grown woman - the Hero of Ferelden, at that." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes, Maker-forbid you accept even the slightest bit of affection from anyone," Garevel chimed in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The mage chuckled. "Oh, stop overreacting, Wools. I know you love me." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mistress Woolsey's face remained as stoic as ever. Though the older woman appeared annoyed at Neria's immature behavior, she could tell that there wasn't any real hostility behind the facade. If the mistress was honestly bothered, Neria would've stopped ages ago. After the better part of eight years with Woolsey, Neria knew that she only kept a distance because Woolsey didn't want it to get out she was capable of human emotions. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Neria was first introduced to Mistress Woolsey months after she slew the Archdemon. Back then, the mage was freshly twenty-two. She was still considered young, for all intents and purposes. When the Grey Wardens in Ferelden were granted the arling of Amarantine, well, there were many issues at hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With Neria being the newly instated Warden-Commander of Ferelden, she was to be the new arlessa. The news caused quite a stir back in Weisshaupt. Letters upon letters arrived at Denerim Palace while Neria stayed there to recuperate after the battle. They all were from the disgruntled First Warden and High Constable, discussing the logistics of how a young Grey Warden would manage her commanding responsibilities as well as govern an arling. While back then, she had been insulted at their lack of faith in her abilities, she later was able to admit that governing was much more challenging than she anticipated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When she first arrived at Vigil's Keep, she was aware that Weisshaupt sent a liaison. The nature of the order demanded that the Wardens avoid political entanglements. Still, with the land being granted to them by the Ferelden monarchy, they understood how they needed a substantial presence to facilitate a more straightforward clean-up effort after the Blight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mistress Woolsey treated Neria like a child who had gotten their small, grubby hands on a knife. At first, she refused to directly bring the more important matters to her, instead choosing to talk to Captain Garevel and Seneschal Varel beforehand. It was impossibly infuriating. After two months, Mistress Woolsey began to trust Neria more after her efforts to clean up the Arling were progressing nicely. The Pilgrim's Road was well defended, and Neria successfully brought back trade to Amaranthine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite this, Woolsey was still a master at hiding her affections. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes, evidently so," the older woman replied, the ghost of a smile working its way onto her not-so stoic face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Perhaps it was the season, but Neria found herself feeling rather sentimental. She took a good </span>
  <em>
    <span>look </span>
  </em>
  <span>at her companions around her, who had all gone back to making light conversation. The mage knew that they didn't have as much time as they wanted. It was likely that Garvel, Varel, and Woolsey would see her pass before they did of old age. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If there was one thing Neria was sure of, it's that she knew the Maker to be a cruel god. Her younger years' trauma tainted the once sunny outlook on life she had, and since becoming a Grey Warden, she knew she was living on borrowed time. It wasn't fair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But, life was hardly fair as she came to realize. Maybe it was the atmosphere - charged with the excitement of the holiday - or perhaps it was the way the light reflected off the snow outside, but Neria realized she needed to pick back up on her search for a cure. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After Nathaniel confessed his love a year prior, she had little faith that there was a possibility of a cure to the taint that infected all Grey Wardens. Her efforts became far and few between. Today, that changed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She owed it to everyone who ever loved her. She owed it to everyone who took the oath. They all deserved to live a long, happy life. It was a mistake on Neria's part to lie down and accept her fate. She was a fighter, and it didn't become her to shovel her own grave. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nathaniel reached across to squeeze her hand. The comforting feeling pulled her back to reality, but her resolve was the same. His blue eyes held a sympathetic look. He knew. He would always know; the rogue knew her more intimately than anyone. Nathaniel rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. A sign of support. His way of reassuring her that no matter what, he would follow her to the ends of the world. Even if her endeavors meant that it jeopardized the time they had left. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smiled at her like she was the blessed Andraste herself. Despite the old adage that no hero lived happily, she would be the first. At the very least, she needed to try. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If the others at the table noticed the swift change in mood, they did little to show it. They happily chatted away with each other, making jests at the behest of others and sipping on the special mulled wine Neria specifically imported from Orlais. (From the same merchant Leliana once recommended however many years ago.) </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What say we play a game of Wicked Grace, huh?" Neria suggested. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'd say that's a wonderful idea, my dear, but you know everyone's going to be a sore loser in the morning when they realize they went another year without besting me," Nathaniel laughed, loud and unashamed and full of love. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Garevel's eyes held a curious twinkle as he raised his goblet to his lips in an attempt to mask his smarmy smile. "Hmmm, I don't know about that, Howe. I'd say Guardsman Tobias has gotten better over the years. He may finally be good enough to steal your title as reigning champion." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Pfft, you men always assume you're the best in the room. I dare say that Warden Powell looks very promising this year," Woolsey countered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Varel simply rolled his eyes. It was a rather silly tradition if you asked him. The older members of the keep hardly had enough time on their hands to brush up on their card skills, so they choose whichever Warden or guardsmen seemed to hold the most promise in regards to snatching the champion title from Nathaniel. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even so, he still participated every year. "If I were you, I'd watch out for Guardsman Rosa. I believe she's improved over the past year." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neria raised a brow in faux consideration. While it was no secret that the Vigil would be hosting two guests later on in the afternoon, the rest of the inhabitants could only speculate as to who would dare brave the worst of winter during their travels. "Well, let's just say there's a reason why I've been hiding the identity of our guests." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh? I have to say, my dear, I'm surprised you managed to keep it secret for this long." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was then that a giant, shit-eating grin was etched into her features. "Why, Zevran and Velanna, of course." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone at the table let out a collective groan. Of course, the two most notorious cheaters at Wicked Grace would be staying at the Vigil for Satinalia. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And it was this feeling - this warmth blossoming in her chest - that signaled to Neria that she was right to strengthen her iron will. While the years were not kind, Neria would fight tooth and nail for the future she deserved. The life she wanted with Nathaniel and their friends. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Inspired by Amoretti LXXV, by Edmund Spenser<br/>One day I wrote her name upon the strand,<br/>But came the waves and washed it away:<br/>Again I wrote it with a second hand,<br/>But came the tide, and made my pains his prey.<br/>"Vain man," said she, "that dost in vain assay,<br/>A mortal thing so to immortalize;<br/>For I myself shall like to this decay,<br/>And eke my name be wiped out likewise."<br/>"Not so," (quod I) "let baser things devise<br/>To die in dust, but you shall live by fame:<br/>My verse your vertues rare shall eternize,<br/>And in the heavens write your glorious name:<br/>Where whenas death shall all the world subdue,<br/>Our love shall live, and later life renew."</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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